


She can do magic

by Keenir



Category: Dresden Files (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-20 19:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keenir/pseuds/Keenir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Requested: <i>Dresden Files</i> inspired by the song "You can do Magic"...here's what the muses offer.</p><p>Summary:	The steps along the road of Harry’s relationship.</p>
            </blockquote>





	She can do magic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fififolle](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Fififolle).



“Red Court, White Court,” young Harry said while writing down the day’s lesson from Hrothbert of Bainbridge, “High Council. Anybody else?”

 _Well, there_ are _the Old Ones, but even the Courts try to avoid too much in the way of dealing with them._ “There’s always the heart,” Bob said.

“The Hart?”

“The human heart,” to remove any confusion.

“What?” asked the boy. “How is the heart the equal of the Courts and the Council?”

Yes,” Bob said, his voice enriched with a humor that the boy didn’t understand, “how can that be?” Returning to his normal delivery, “A geas side-steps both mind and heart, removing the critical _urge_ or impulse from all things. The heart, Harry, can be both a wall _and_ a weapon.”

“Because a wall can fall on you?”

“No.”

“Oh. Are you going to teach me how to cast a geas?”

"Not today."

 ***~~~***

“Bob!” the full-grown Harry shouted the second after his door’d slammed shut. The wards, thankfully, didn’t get jostled by any slamming of doors – or of windows (don’t ask).

“Yes, Harry?” materializing.

“I need you to -”

“Do we have a case?” interrupting, just in case.

“Not yet, but maybe soon. I need you to check me for a geas.”

Some children ask to be checked for ticks after playing in the woods; Harry, for geas after talking with a particular buxom brunette (if this was for the same reason as yesterday). “Officer Morgan again?”

Looking at his feet, “Just check, okay, Bob?”

Bob did so, and the results were unsurprising. “Nothing. Really, Harry, you should stop worrying.”

“If there’s no geas, then maybe it’s a hex – something subtle to keep below radar.”

“I can assure you,” and would’ve sighed wearily if he’d actually been capable of intake and expelling of air, “that I was most thorough. The woman in question has not placed a hex, a geas, or any other sort of charm or enchantment on you.”

“Then how come that, when I’m around Officer Murphy, I can barely manage two sentances?”

Ah, it finally finds you. “Perhaps you simply have nothing to talk about.”

“Funny.”

 ***~~~***

“I could…well, I think I can help.”

Eyebrow raised, “With my case?” Murphy asked, highly skeptical.

“Yep.”

“It’s a murder, not a séance.”

“I don’t do those,” Harry said. _Bad memories there._ “So…?”

Turning to face him, noting he avoided direct eye contact, “Why would you want to help?”

 _I - um…I..._ “Because I can help.”

Grumbling, “Fine. But get in the way – even once – and I’ll kick you back to the sidewalk myself.”

 _Ah, the personal touch, as both Bob and Uncle Justin would say._

 ***~~~***

The rains were back in Chicago, and Harry Dresden was standing at his doorway, looking out. His car was out being repaired…again. Any missions today would have to be on foot. But he wasn’t thinking about work…not strictly so.

 _Detective Murphy._

He could call her…but he’d probably short out the phone – and the way things had been going lately, the short-circuit might zap Murph.

He could go stop by the police station…but a completely-soaked Harry would not be proof that he was entirely sane – which would ruin him in her estimation. And Bob – foils! – was right that Harry wanted Murph’s estimation just as much as he wanted her smile.

So he kept watching the outside, hoping the rains would let up sometime this week.

 ***~~~***

“Hey, Murph.”

Accepting the cup of coffee he was offering, “How is it you always know just when to show up, Dresden?”

“Wouldya believe ‘magic’?” The look on her face was answer aplenty. “Lucky guess, that’s all.”

“That’s a lot of lucky guesses this year.”

“I’m on a roll.”

“Great. Mind rolling on down the road?”

“Yup. Can’t get rid of me that easy, Murph.”

 _Murph **-ee**!_ she wanted to shout – but experience was teaching her that her holler would roll off his back like a duck in the local rivers. “Why’s that?”

This answer wasn’t ‘magic.’ ****


End file.
